Love is a Mystery
by Ninada
Summary: Love is a mystery. Do you have a materialistic clue when you're in love? Is there a way to discover the reason you're in love? It is a strong spirit within you that you never see; that pushes you forward. You can't deny it, yet, you can't affirm it with eye-witnessed experiments, too.


Disclaimer: I don't own Detective Conan/Case Closed. Gosho Aoyama is the real owner.

A/N: Please listen to Yiruma's Kiss the Rain while reading this. I, personally, don't like listening to songs with lyrics while reading since it distracts me, but this is a music piece that won't do.

The story is sort of, random; written in that state of contemplating. It will probably be my last one for quite a long while. Please read, and review.

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LOVE IS A MYSTERY

.

_To the dearest, Kudo-kun.._

No, no, scratch that. Too cheesy. The auburn woman sitting in the balcony grimaced. Staring thoughtfully at the words she has written, she shook her head disapprovingly, then crushed the paper in her grasp.

Within a second, it joined the piled up paper balls on the floor, adding one to the stack. Miyano Shiho rested her head on her elbows. She let her fingers run through her hair, ruffling it wearily.

Few minutes passed while she's still in the same condition. The humming song on the radio played soothingly as she closed her eyes. She needed rest most now. But-

Without warning, her eyes were shot wide open, and she held the pen with her fingers once again.

_To the the Sherlock Holmes of the 21st century,_

_I'm sorry—  
_

Upon getting on with the next line, she suddenly smirked. Not that too. That detective brat definitely did not need much cockiness beyond what he has already had within himself. The smirk quickly turned to a smile as she threw away her tenth paper away.

It seems like she has underestimated the difficulty of her task. It's been about two weeks now?

Shiho has never been good with expressing herself, let alone emotions and such. Emotions better left buried inside, they said. It is a weak spot to be given to anybody, they countered. Grudge, maybe.. Revenge, perhaps. Those are the the triumphant emotions to be held. The blackened thoughts remained in the back of her head for a couple of minutes before she shrugged them away immediately.

How does emotions suddenly take place? Appear out of nowhere in somebody's heart? It was always a mystery, thinking about it scientifically. Some things are just felt the way they are, he had told her. But that was wrong. Ultimately wrong. She was a scientist. And experiments — eye-witnessed experiments — were her only way to know the truth. But then also, the fact that their no-emotions-held strategy had led them nowhere but to a dead end, is absolutely something to consider.

Sometimes, she'd get to wonder if it wasn't really that bad; her life, that is. If things went some other way, she wouldn't have been so desperate to leave the Organization. Maybe she'd have been truly one of them. The humanly side of her would have been buried forever. And that she would have had to be a mad scientist for the rest of her life. That all those things that had happened to her — her sister's death, her parents' accident, his shrinking, their meeting — were an aspect of luck, rather fate, to contribute with her scientifically brilliant mind into the human's own good, not otherwise.

The white side inside of her has finally taken some part of that cold personality which was slowly overtaking her internally. Some people are of major use that when they are lost to the wrong side, it would be of utter danger, however, they outbalance the equilibrium to the right side once they are on in it; Kudo had once proclaimed indicating her.

He's believed in her; that she'd be able to make a cure for whatsoever. It made her wonder if it were just some of his morals clinging onto false hopes. But, it was not. He always has his own sensible speculating of probabilities. Can someone get infected with such sense of justice, and clinging onto 'useless' hopes — as she'd addressed earlier before? Like, some kind of a flu, or a virus? She'd never knew. Because simply when she dissects a frog or a rat, such spiritual things does not exist.

Suddenly, Shiho tilted her head, looking beside her at the little tea table where the radio was settled. The music has stopped. She pressed replay, lessening the volume this time.

Replay.. There's no such thing in real life. One can't help but get sulky on how he's wished he could press replay on some certain memories. She, herself, admits she does sometimes. But now, thinking about it, past is always something to cling on because it had been lived, and you're not afraid of it anymore. However, if you really get the chance to press replay, you won't. At least, she knew she wouldn't.

Even though her thoughts linger back to the time, it's never that bad anymore. Because a person is never really away from you, once their thoughts, morals, ethics and significance is living within your mind. It's not like leaving footprints that fade away with the wind; it's rather like digging on a stone.

Soon enough after about four minutes passed Shiho by, leaving her with her only musings, and the scent of the refreshing coffee, the music came to a halt once again. However, this time, she no longer pressed the replay button. Finishing the last sip of coffee in her cup, Shiho scribbled something hurriedly on the only piece of paper remaining ahead of her. It took her only about five seconds to put back her lab coat, and head out to the corridor leading to her work. Clearing out the glasses laid in her pocket with her warm breath, Shiho put them calmly before her eyes. And the door was soon having a 'don't disturb' sign.

Some things aren't concluded after a simple experiment where the flames go bluish violet, or the gas makes a pop sound. They are just felt the way they are. No complications. No materials needed. Just you, your heart, and peace of mind.

Replay... Sometimes, you need to get back to your past to relive its difficulties, and learn from the past mistakes. And then get back to the current moment to do something right this time.

It doesn't take long to make history, for life after every proceeding minute becomes a history. The thing that matters is what kind of history you'd like to read on your Wikipedia page, for love is not love if it doesn't push you forwards.

And some little circumstances can be taken for granted now and then.

_So, I won't be here for dinner. Make some food yourself, meitanei-san._

Even if it meant a little fire nearby for a third time._  
_

THE END


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